


First Date

by Onlymystory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Car Sex, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Pack Feels, Sheriff Stilinski is Awesome, Stiles and Derek do things backwards, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:18:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymystory/pseuds/Onlymystory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has Danny set him up with a date. But Derek's reaction ensures the night ends very differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Did some editing of old stories (and wow, I can't believe y'all still complimented this one considering I flopped tenses so bad and had epithets galore). EGADS! So, here, have a readable version. The final chapter also has some updates to it to smooth out the story.

Derek hasn’t shown up in Stiles’ room for over two weeks. Not that Stiles is getting a complex about it. He was not. There are probably perfectly valid reasons. Derek is busy. He has a life.

Yeah, thinks Stiles, even I can’t believe that one. The problem really isn’t why Derek isn’t around. It's just that he was gone.

Stiles misses him. He misses pretending he had no interest in helping just so Derek would have to get all growly and then ultimately say please. 

He really misses the way Derek smells like pine trees and soap and the faintest hint of campfires.

Stiles also misses having someone to talk to. It isn’t like Derek talks back all that much but unlike Scott, who always seems to be planning his next date with Allison, Derek listens.

So yeah, Derek disappearing was a problem for Stiles.

The fact that it bothered him? Not a problem. Not since the first morning he woke up from a particularly good dream with Derek’s name on his lips had been admittedly jarring.

Stiles had lain in bed for a while and finally decided that it kind of made sense. 

His dad hadn’t even blinked when Stiles told him he was pretty sure he was gay.

John just informed him that the rules hadn’t changed and that if he was seriously interested in someone, they needed to come over for dinner at some point. And then he muttered something about said someone needing to learn to smile and wow was Stiles not touching that one.

And that was that.

Stiles even manages to keep himself in control around Derek.

But now that Derek isn’t invading his personal space, he's a little too frustrated. 

So when he calls Danny and asks to be set up, Stiles figures it's a good chance to explore other options. Danny gets him a date for today and Stiles is mildly panicking over whether his dark blue oxford and jeans were appropriate for a coffee date.

Apparently they are because the guy, Jake, gives him a very appreciative look when Stiles walks through the door. 

The entire date is very nice. Jake is friendly and totally into comics just like Stiles and the kind of guy who seems like he could be a really good friend. Unfortunately, that's about all it would be on Stiles’ part because he was spending way too much time noticing things like how Jake’s leather jacket didn’t sit on his shoulders as well as Derek’s did or that Derek would have rolled his eyes at his comment that Batman was better than Wolverine. Because Derek might pretend that he didn’t care about pop culture but the 2 hour argument they’d had over the subject said very differently.

And Stiles completely lost track of what Jake was saying. He tries focusing again and manages to make it through the rest of the date. Then he walks Jake to his car because it was starting to get dark. Stiles is equipped to handle bumps in the night. Hell, Stiles is best friends with most of them. Jakeiasn’t. 

Stiles starts to say goodbye and is cut off when Jake leans forward and kisses him. 

It's good. Stiles is being more objective than he thought he’d be during his first kiss but it is good. He's into it, so at least that reassures him that his type was boys and not alpha types like Derek & Lydia. Or at least not just alpha types. 

Even better, it appears that Stiles’ overactive imagination is working in his favor because Jake seems to be pretty into the kiss as well. He pushes closer to Stiles and his tongue keeps flicking against Stiles’ lips and when Stiles moves his tongue, Jake gives a little sigh like that was exactly what he wanted. 

So Stiles has that going for him. He just doesn’t have anything that makes him interested in Jake. 

Jake pulls back, breathing kinda heavy. “That was…”

“Yeah,” says Stiles and he tries to sound like Jake and not like he’d just conducted a science experiment.

“Could I see you again?”

“Sure,” answers Stiles. He feels a little bad, not being into Jake after all but he’s also betting that this was just a weird first date thing and if he gives Jake another chance, he could forget about Derek. Plus he likes the kissing.

“So I’ll call you tomorrow,” says Jake as he gets in his car. 

Stiles nods and moves out of the way. Once Jake is gone, he hops in his jeep and heads over to the pack meeting.

When he walks downstairs to the station, Derek sort of sniffs the air and growls, walking away from him.

Scott and Jackson both sniff at him. “You smell funny,” says Scott. 

“Yeah. It’s weird.” Jackson’s glaring at him like it was his fault he was offending stupid werewolf senses.

Stiles can’t figure it out. Then, “Oh!” he exclaims, cluing in. “I probably smell like the guy I was just on a date with. I didn’t realize a kiss would change my scent so much that you could tell.”

And then a whole lot of things happen at once.

Derek yelps, like he was an actual puppy and someone stepped on his tail. 

Scott’s jaw drops and he demands to know if Stiles really thought that was the best way to tell his friends that he was gay. 

Jackson just mutters that he didn’t smell right.

Erica says he was an idiot and Allison just sort of shakes her head at him like she can’t believe he would do that.

“I can’t believe you would do that to him,” says Lydia and then like 4 people shush her but her eyes flicker towards the couch where Derek is sitting.

That's the only reaction that Stiles registers.

“It bothers you that I went on a date with someone else?” he says, looking straight at Derek.

“It could be dangerous to date someone. You don’t know what they might be up to,” mutters Derek.

“Try again.”

“Yes, it bothers me,” says Derek, still muttering. 

“Why?” asks Stiles, and he’s more than a little invested in the answer.

“I don’t know,” he growls.

Stiles isn’t having any of it. “Yes, you do. Answer the question, Derek.”

“I don’t like the idea of you dating someone else,” Derek finally answers and it sounds like Stiles is torturing him with the way he says it.

Stiles walks closer, so he’s standing right in front of Derek and completely ignores the fact that he’s got a major audience right now.

“You know what I was thinking during that kiss?” he asks, and he’s going straight to hell considering how much he likes the way Derek whimpers at him. Stiles continues as though Derek didn’t do anything. “I was thinking that Jake’s skin was smooth. Too smooth. It needed stubble. But then I thought that it wouldn’t really do any good if Jake had stubble because it wouldn’t be your stubble. And all I really wanted was to be kissing you. Even with another guy’s tongue down my throat.”

He reaches out and lifts Derek’s chin up to stare in his eyes. “I couldn’t taste him because all I could see was you. All I ever see, all I ever want is you.”

Stiles leans forward and gently kisses Derek, who’s staring at him with the most amazing mixture of want and desire and desperation and all Stiles can think is that this must be what people mean when they say someone takes their breath away.

Stiles kisses the corner of Derek’s mouth and pulls back, figuring he should probably give Derek a chance to respond.

Derek makes a small noise of complaint and his hands grab at Stiles. 

“Well you’ve never been the talker,” jokes Stiles. “Figures it’d be my mouth doing most of the work in this side of the relationship too.”

And oh god, if he can get Derek’s eyes to go wide like that again, he’ll be in heaven. 

Stiles moves his mouth back against Derek’s and Derek’s hands come up around the back of his thighs and pull him onto his lap. Stiles pushes his tongue against Derek’s lips, wanting more and his mouth opens and it’s hot and everything Stiles wants. 

He stays like this for awhile, licking and exploring every bit of Derek’s mouth from the curve of his lips to the way his fangs prick at him. When Stiles bites at Derek’s lip, Derek moans and bucks up against him.

Stiles pulls away just long enough to wave his hand at the rest of the pack, who are standing around looking flabbergasted. “Pack meeting’s over. Get out.”

Or if he could see them, he would see that Scott looks flabbergasted but like he kind of gets it, that Allison & Isaac are swooning, while Jackson, Erica, Boyd & Lydia look like it’s about damn time.

Stiles isn’t really all that interested in how they look. He’s very interested in the way Derek’s mouth is kind of swollen and his eyes are dark with flecks of red and that makes Stiles realize that Derek’s starting to lose control and now all Stiles can think about is how much he wants to see if he can get Derek to growl.

Derek is tugging at Stiles, moving his hips against in a desperate attempt to find friction and Stiles can feel himself getting harder by the second. 

He moves his own hips against Derek and gets the growl he was waiting for.

Derek yanks Stiles in closer and starts licking and kissing at his neck.

Stiles lets out his own moan at that because holy shit does Derek’s tongue feel good.

“I’m not really the type to put out on a first date,” he says teasingly.

Derek’s hands start undoing Stiles’ belt.

“So I guess it’s a good thing you never asked me out,” he finishes, reaching towards Derek’s own belt as he brings Derek’s lips back to his.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Stilinski finds it is way too easy to torture his son and make Derek blush.

Stiles is sure someone is staring at him. And not that the idea someone was watching him sleep is new but it's usually Derek and he is definitely pressed up against Stiles’ back. So. 

Stiles opens one eye. 

Isaac lounges on a rail tie a few feet away. “I’d say morning Sleeping Beauty but I’m not supposed to lie.”

“Asshole,” mumbles Stiles. He twists so his face is buried in Derek’s neck. Derek tightens his arm around him and pulls him closer under the blanket.

“Tell Isaac to go away.”

“Isaac, go away,” says Derek helpfully.

Isaac doesn’t move. Of course. “Don’t you want to know why I’m here?”

“Why are you here? Other than to annoy me,” asks Stiles, trying to burrow back into Derek’s warmth and ignore Isaac.

“Your dad’s on his way over. Something about his son not being in his bed and Scott not being quick enough to cover for you which apparently left only one place for you to be.” Isaac laughs. “I really should have bet Jackson more money on this whole situation.”

“My dad’s coming here?!” Stiles scrambles against Derek’s chest, making Derek bat at him with his hand.

“Stiles, stop moving.”

“Oh hell no. We’re both moving. Right now. Yesterday in fact. You are going to get up and get dressed and I am going to find my jeans which I’m sure are here somewhere because I know I got those off before you ripped my shirt and then I am going to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to tell my dad.” Stiles yanks the blanket around him, tucks a pillow in front of Derek’s dick just in case he had some sort of modesty issues in this situation even though he never seems to in any other, and turns to look for his jeans.

Isaac holds them out helpfully. 

Stiles glares at Isaac who's barely containing his laughter. “Thank you.”

Derek finally registers what's going on and gets up to pull on his own pants. 

So clearly modesty not a factor.

“Calm down, Stiles. We’ll just explain what happened. Everything will be fine.” Derek throws his shirt at him and turns to Isaac. “Go keep an eye out and give us some sort of signal when John gets here.”

Isaac heads back up the stairs, still laughing and even in the midst of Stiles’ freak out he makes a mental note to think of a really good torture program for the werewolf.

Then he turns his freak out back on Derek. “You’ve met my dad. He carries a gun. More than one in fact with both normal and wolfsbane bullets. And somehow I don’t think saying don’t worry dad, I just went on a date with another guy and then Derek got jealous which is kind of what I wanted in the first place and then he made pouty noises until I got my mouth around his dick and then he made much better noises, oh and he managed to jerk me off twice and then we fell asleep on the couch. But no worries, there are still uncharted waters so it’s kind of like I’m still a virgin. I mean seriously, Derek?!”

“I was thinking maybe less detail,” says Derek in response.

“Less detail.” Stiles smacks his forehead with his palm. “Of course, less detail fixes everything.”

Derek ignores that comment. “You’re 18, Stiles. And it was consensual.”

“Yeah, not thinking that’s gonna work. You’re still seven years older than me and more…you know.”

“I don’t know why you or anyone else think I have this porn star level experience,” mutters Derek.

Stiles gapes. “Um, have you seen you?”

“Yes. I prefer to look at you.”

Stiles blushes hard because wow does Derek know how to sneak in a compliment. 

“Besides,” continues Derek as though Stiles hasn’t reacted. “I slept with Kate and then my life turned to shit. I had a couple one night hook ups while in New York with Laura but that’s it. And those were both with women. I’m just as new at this as you are,” he finishes quietly.

That shuts Stiles up. Or at least it makes him sit down and take a breath. “So you’re a…I mean were…or I guess still sort are…?”

“A virgin? In this particular area, yeah.” 

“Oh. But last night…”

Derek sighs. “Giving you a hand job isn’t exactly rocket science. You seemed to figure things out pretty quick. Unless?” His eyes fly open with this mix of anxiousness and devastation that made Stiles want to hug him. 

“No, I haven’t made a habit of giving blowjobs in the locker room,” says Stiles. “But thanks for the weirdly backhanded compliment I guess.”

“I’m just trying to say that I know this is new and I know your dad is going to be protective of you no matter who you date but I’m not some deviant trying to corrupt his son. I think if we just calmly explain what’s going on, your dad will be as okay with this as he would be with anyone else.” Derek reaches down to tie his shoes.

A low snarl sounds from the top of the stairs. 

“That’s our signal. Are you ready?” asks Derek, as Stiles pulls his hoodie on and straightens up.

“Wait,” says Stiles. “What are we?”

Derek looks at him, confused.

“Like a definition,” explains Stiles. “We can’t just say we’re hooking up. And I don’t want this to just be sex,” he adds firmly.

“Neither do I. What do you want to define us as?” asks Derek and there was the tiniest hitch in his voice that tells Stiles his answer matters.

Stiles looks right into Derek’s eyes and his voice doesn’t shake a bit. “I want you to be mine. Mine.” And his voice growls a little in possession.

Derek kisss him.

When they pull apart, a little breathless, Stiles continues. “But maybe I could call you my boyfriend to my dad?”

“I’d like that,” answers Derek and he slipps his hand in Stiles’, linking their fingers together as they walk outside.

John Stilinski is standing in the yard, talking to Isaac and Erica. Both quickly excuse themselves and move across the clearing to lean against Stiles’ car while the others talk. 

Stiles tries flicking at them to make them leave and Erica just smirks at him in a clear indication that they weren’t missing this for the world.

“Hey Dad,” starts Stiles. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good, Stiles. Woke up this morning to make pancakes,” he turns towards Derek, “It’s kind of a tradition to have pancakes on Saturday mornings at our house, at least when my son is home.” John looks back at Stiles. “And surprise, surprise, it turns out my son slept at the Hale house instead of in his own bed.”

“Well you know how important it is to get a good night’s sleep, Dad,” attempts Stiles. “Plenty of rest and all that.”

“Your shirt is inside out,” observes John. “And Derek seems to have forgotten that most people wear socks with tennis shoes.”

Derek blushes.

“I’m trying to imagine what sort of thing would make someone forget such a basic item of clothing. Maybe you know the answer, Derek?”

Stiles wonders if he could teleport himself anywhere else using just the power of his mind.

“I, um, I guess I was just forgetful,” stammers Derek.

“Well you do have such a reputation for doing things willy nilly,” says John and Stiles abruptly switches plans to just burrowing into the ground.

“Stiles.”

“Yes, dad?” mumbles Stiles. 

“Do you have anything to say?”

Stiles is flustered and then Derek gently squeezes his hand and he remembers that his dad loves him and is just trying to torture him and this isn’t just some fling and he finds his courage again.

“Dad, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend,” he says firmly. 

John reaches out and shakes Derek’s hand. “Nice to meet my son’s boyfriend.”

Derek tries not to wonder if his hand is sweating. He's an alpha for pete’s sake and here he is freaking out over this. And he’s met John! Worked with him even. He has to stop trying to predict anyone with the name Stilinski.

John turns back to Stiles. “Stiles, do you remember what I told you the rules for dating were?”

Stiles thinks back. “Curfew on school nights, don’t do anything that will get a deputy called out on my location, and…” His eyes flash up to his dad’s. “Please don’t.”

“Do you have plans tonight, Derek?”

“No,” answers Derek, not sure where this was going. 

Stiles gives up. 

“Excellent. Dinner will be served at 6:30. Do you have any problems with pot roast, Derek?” asks John.

Derek shakes his head. “No sir.”

“Good.” Stiles’ dad seems to consider that the end of the matter until a light flashes in his eyes. Stiles cringes, not sure what that meant.

“Stiles, didn’t you have a date last night? Not with Derek?”

“Yeeees…” 

John looks at Derek, then Stiles, and back to Derek. “It really took that to bring you around,” he mutters to himself. “Idiots.”

Stiles feels like the fact that he manages to close his mouth and not turn tomato shades of red is a mark of significant progress. Derek is awkwardly shuffling his feet and staring at the ground. Erica and Isaac are leaning against the jeep, doubled over in laughter as they hear every word. 

“Da-ad!”

John just gives Stiles a look. “6:30, Derek. I think we’ll have so much to talk about.” He ignores Stiles’ sputtering, waves at the two cackling werewolves across the yard and gets back in his cruiser.

Stiles stares after him as he left. “We’re dead. We’re so dead.”


	3. Meet the Dad Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek comes over for dinner for the first time as Stiles' boyfriend. Insert Stilinski feels here. Also, Sheriff Stilinski is the best dad ever in this story (and in my head-canon. As in he needs to go hang out with Coach Taylor in a perfect dad bromance).

Before Stiles leaves, he instructs Derek to bring a cake with him to dinner. Not just any cake. A very specific, very decadent black forest cake from a bakery off Main Street. Normally Stiles buys the cupcake version for his dad’s birthday. He's pretty sure this dinner needs the entire cake. 

Derek considers suggesting that Stiles not panic quite so much but one look at his boyfriend’s face, and wow that felt really good to say, and he agrees to get the cake.

He even listens when Stiles wants to pick out his wardrobe. But Derek finally draws the line when Stiles starts debating what underwear Derek should wear to make the best impression. 

He ever so patiently points out that he's fairly certain the Sheriff is not actually interested in his underwear preferences, and would probably also not like the reminder that his son was so comfortable with that particular area of his body.

This of course results in Stiles trying to proposition him, which makes Derek laugh, then Stiles pout, until finally Derek kisses the pout away and Stiles agresd that Derek could probably figure this stuff out on his own.

Derek wants to bring something to dinner besides his instructed cake, since it was more than obvious who's really behind the dessert. But flowers seem a little weird.

It's when Stiles texts him to remind him about the cake (for the 8th time) and warns against getting any other desserts because his dad doesn’t even need the one that Derek figures out the perfect gift.

He stops at the store for the things he needs and puts it together in his car, then stops by the bakery. 

Derek arrives at the Stilinski house at 6:00 and finally has to admit to himself that his palms are a little sweaty. 

This matters to him. He's old enough and werewolves are naturally devoted enough that he knows he wants Stiles in a forever kind of way. Derek isn’t going to say that to Stiles, not because he thinks Stiles was too young but because he doesn’t want Stiles to feel like he's stuck with Derek.

And that isn’t quite the right word because he knows Stiles well enough to know that Stiles would never consider it being stuck. But he also knows how badly Stiles wants him to be happy. And he’s scared of what it might do to Stiles if he stays just to make Derek happy. Or if he can't make Stiles happy in return.

The sweaty palms increase to a fairly intense panic session.

He starts when there’s a tap on the window.

John Stilinski stands there, looking a bit worried. It strikes Derek that John looks worried for him, not about what he might do.

Derek rolls down the window. “I’m sorry, sir, I know I’m early.” He finally registers that Stiles’ jeep isn’t in the driveway. “Oh, and Stiles isn’t even here.”

“I sent him to get sour cream for the mashed potatoes,” answers John, though he seems to know that Derek isn’t really asking where Stiles is. “Why don’t you come inside, Derek?”

“I can wait,” begins Derek and stops short at the look John gave him. “Okay.”

The Sheriff heads toward the house and Derek follows. Once inside, he sets the cake on the counter, noting John’s appreciative glance at it and leaves the bag with the gift by the door. He shifts awkwardly until John motions for him to sit down.

“We have maybe fifteen minutes before Stiles gets back and I’d like to talk to you seriously for a moment,” says John.

Derek nods his assent. He’s still not really sure what’s going on or what to do and he’s beginning to realize just how much he relies on Stiles to help him know how to act.

John notices how nervous he is and kind of pushes Derek towards a bar stool and hands him a glass of water. Derek accepts gratefully and wraps his hands around the glass. What did he normally do with his hands? 

“Why do you want to be with my son?” asks John, not beating around the bush in any way. 

“I like him,” answers Derek. It’s true. It’s just not the whole truth. Damnit Stiles really is rubbing off on him. And that’s a bad choice of words because now Derek’s mind is going to completely inappropriate places. He quickly pulls his focus back. “He makes me smile.” That’s a more honest answer.

“Maybe I should explain what I mean when I ask that question,” says John, though he doesn’t seem to be disregarding Derek’s answers. “You don’t really remember anything about me other than being Stiles’ dad or the Sheriff, I assume?”

Derek shake his head. “No sir.”

John leans back against the counter. “My wife,” and he chokes a little as he says the words and Derek kind of marvels at the way a single word can be full of so much love after all these years. “She and I used to go on double dates sometimes with your parents.”

Derek can’t even begin to hide his shock. “You did?” He has a million more questions but waits patiently.

“We did. It started as an accident. There was supposed to be a community bowling event and all the leaders of the community were expected to attend but somehow it ended up that the rest of our team didn’t show up and no one but your parents were there for their team. So we offered to play together, figuring it couldn’t be that bad for a couple hours. Your parents were leaders but quiet in town, not too social. My wife, Celina, was the same way. Always a smile but she kept her circles small.”

John's quiet for a moment, reflecting, and Derek doesn’t say a word. He knows from Stiles just how little his dad brings up Celina and he can tell this is important.

“The bowling ended up being nice and somehow a dinner date was agreed upon. From there it sort of spiraled. For two years, every 4-6 weeks, the four of us would get together. For a long time, I didn’t really think about why we got along so well. And then Celina got sick and it suddenly became too hard to be around your parents and I started to understand. I loved my wife. I loved her to the point where I didn’t mind when she challenged me because I wanted to be better for her. She was my sunlight and the darkest winter day was radiant when she turned a smile at me. I was once told that people loved seeing us together but found it difficult to be around because it seemed like we’d found a love that defied the odds. There was something deeper, unexplainable, that drew us together.”

Derek is wide-eyed, fully invested in the story. 

“Your parents were the same way. There was this sense, and it’s something I don’t know that everyone can understand unless they have it, that they belonged to each other on a level deeper than most. I know it’s why we got along so well. And I know it’s why I couldn’t bear to see them after I lost my Celina, because it reminded me of all that I lost.”

John’s voice suddenly loses the sorrow and becomes deadly serious. “When I ask you why you want to be with my son, I’m not interested in the mundane reasons. I could care less about any physical attraction. I want to know exactly who I’m trusting my son’s happiness to.”

Derek doesn’t even need to think about his answer. “He makes me smile. That sounds so simple, but I forgot how to smile a long time ago. And when I came back to Beacon Hills, if you’d asked me to show genuine happiness, I would have told you that I don’t know what that looks like. Stiles never asked me but he never acted like I was capable of anything other than being happy. He’s stubborn and intense and worms his way into everyone’s hearts until you look around and wonder when he took it over. Stiles makes me better just by letting me be. This actual relationship may be brand new but I feel like Stiles and I have been on our way here for a long time. Maybe even longer than either of us realize.”

Derek wants John to understand this, needs him to. “I said he makes me smile. But most of the time, I think it’s not that Stiles is the cause of my happiness. He is my happiness.”

“That was all I needed to know,” says John quietly and he pulls plates out for dinner.

“Sir?” asks Derek hesitantly.

“Yes, Derek,” answers John and it’s in a voice that says he knows what this question is going to be anyway but also knows that Derek needs to actually ask it.

“Do you think you could tell me about those dates sometimes? About my parents?” Derek’s voice breaks and he tries desperately to blink back tears. “Sometimes I feel like I barely knew them…and I wish…” He tries for another swipe at his face to give him time to think of the words.

John Stilinski just sets the plates down on the counter, walks around to Derek and hugs him. Derek clings back because as much as he needs Stiles, he’s needed a hug from a parent even longer. 

“I’ll tell you everything,” says John quietly. “Starting with how proud they would be of you right now.”

 

~

When Stiles walks into the house it's more than obvious that some serious bonding was going on. It also doesn’t appear like anyone wants to talk about it so he jumps straight into talking a mile a minute. In the back of his mind is the idea that if he talks enough, his dad won’t be able to say a word and dinner will be over in no time. And it’s not like he can’t talk for a while. Hell, he can spend all of dinner debating the identity of the 13th cylon if he has to.

He starts with a discussion of why brand name Pop-tarts are the only acceptable kind and those generic toaster pastry things should all be burned and it isn’t until he’s fully digressed to a treatise on why it just seems sad that Steve Rogers and Tony Stark aren’t together that his dad finally interrupts him.

“Stiles. Did you get the sour cream?”

“Yes!” He says hurriedly, handing it over.

“Thank you,” says John. “You can stop debating the gay subtext of The Avengers now.”

“Oh thank god,” mutters Stiles.

“It’s not really subtext anyway,” says Derek and Stiles beams at him.

“There’s more in that bag than sour cream,” says John, inclining his head towards the bag.

Stiles blushes. “Oh well um, this was just some…um… cookies. Yeah, I kind of wanted dessert but I’m supposed to make sure you eat well so I was just going to sneak them up to my room.”

“Except you told Derek to bring over my favorite cake for dessert. In a blatantly obvious attempt to make me forget that you slept over last night,” smirks John. “Note I am not so naïve as to think all you did was slept but I am being purposefully vague because details are not something I ever want to know.”

“Oh,” is all Stiles could come up with.

The Sheriff turns to finish mixing up the mashed potatoes and pretends not to see Stiles glaring at Derek in what clearly translated as ‘you couldn’t step in and save me here’ while Derek’s eyebrows do a dance that say ‘it’s not my job to distract your father from the idea of us having sex’.

“It’s also really hard to forget about it when you walk into a meet the dad dinner with a box of condoms,” continues John, barely stifling a laugh at Stiles’ look of horror. “This isn’t going to be that kind of dinner, son.”

“I want to die. Someone please just kill me now.”

“Just go put them upstairs,” says John with a grin. “In your room. Some details I don’t need to know about Derek.”

Derek buries his head in his hands and Stiles gapes at his father. He chooses to respond to the lesser of two evils in that comment. “You’re not mad about why I would have bought condoms?”

“Stiles, while I would love to imagine that my son is still a baby and will never actually grow up and want to have sex or drink alcohol or do anything that might indicate he’s an adult, I am not this stupid,” says John firmly. All teasing aside, he needs both of them to be clear on this point. “I expect you to be safe and I expect Derek to treat you well and I expect there to be some form of system so that I never, ever walk in and see more than I want to. So no, I’m not mad that my son is acting like an adult while making adult decisions.”

Stiles goes with the obvious response and hugs his dad. 

“Besides I sleep with a gun six inches away so if Derek is here, it’s an easy target,” finishes John with a grin.

And then Stiles hurriedly runs upstairs and back down in hopes that his father won’t actually torture Derek too much before he gets back.

He doesn’t really need to worry as it seems he's the only one being tortured tonight. John's busy making Derek help him carry the food to the table and the two are laughing and talking. 

Though Derek does still look a little embarrassed. 

‘Good,’ thinks Stiles. ‘I refuse to be alone in this.’

“So dinner looks good,” he says out loud.

“It does indeed, Mr. Stilinski,” echoes Derek. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Besides, you brought me black forest cake, Derek,” laughs John. “I think we’ll keep you.”

Stiles frowns. “You’re still only allowed one piece of that cake and then I’m rationing it.”

That reminds Derek of his gift and so while the Stilinski men dish out the food, he excuses himself to grab the bag by the door. “This is for you, sir.”

John opens the bag to pull out what looks like a plastic container to store a cake in. Except it has three little padlocks around the outside. There's also some sort of platform the container was sitting on, just about an inch high and another block that fits the platform inside the bag. A ring of tiny keys finishes out the ensemble. John turns it in his hands. “I know what I want this to be but instead of making a fool of myself, I’ll just ask you to explain.”

“Well I know Stiles wants you to be healthy, and that’s certainly a good thing but I also don’t like it when he takes brownies away from me after I have like two,” and Derek sounds particularly petulant about that. “So I made it so that little box gets glued to a countertop and then the container locks into it. And you can keep the leftover cake in there and Stiles can’t ration it from you.”

Stiles lets out an indignant huff. “That is just rude. And totally obvious.”

“It really is the most blatant form of sucking up I have ever seen,” says John. “But I don’t care. Now you can’t take away my dessert.” He glares at his son. “Derek, you can definitely stick around.”

“You suck,” says Stiles to Derek.

“I told you those are the kind of details I didn’t want to know,” says John offhandedly, trying the locks out.

Stiles and Derek turn bright red. Derek still manages to give Stiles a bit of a leer though, which Stiles feels is entirely unfair.

The dinner proceeds without incident, unless the number of times John makes Stiles briefly wish he could disappear are considered incidents. 

Derek is talkative for Derek, answering questions with more than monosyllabic words and occasionally asking questions of John about his sheriff’s duties.

John asks about the pack and the work they were doing and there's some serious debate over who would make it past playoffs and into the World Series this time around.

And about every ten minutes, Stiles makes a perfectly innocent comment that John turns into a chance to mock him. Stiles might hate it more if he wasn't pretty sure his dad is cool with Derek.

But finally, as the dinner dishes are cleared and coffee is brewing before the cake is sliced, Stiles can’t take it anymore.

“Dad, not that I don’t appreciate that you’re being cool about this and believe me, I want you to be okay with Derek and I dating, I really do, but this is weird. I probably shouldn’t bring this stuff up but even if I’m eighteen, I'm still in high school and he’s like six years older than I am and a werewolf and doesn’t exactly try to have a non-sketchy reputation. And I realize I’m pretty much talking you right into hating this but it just doesn’t make sense,” says Stiles in a rush, finally stopping when he realizes how far he was going down a bad road. “I just don’t get why you’re okay with having Derek over for dinner and just joking around.”

Derek sis very still, smart enough to know this was not a time for him to start talking.

John sets the coffee mugs down and turns to face his son and his son’s boyfriend. “Four reasons, Stiles. First, because the way you light up around him, even when Derek doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to you, is an emotion I haven’t seen from you in a very long time. I couldn’t dream of taking that away. Second, I still remember the first time I was actually home to see Derek carry you into the house after you were injured in some supernatural battle. The look in his eyes was the one I used to see in the mirror while your mom was in the hospital.”

He pauses for a moment to recover, because it's still hard to talk about that and distracts himself by pouring coffee into each mug. Stiles pulls the cake towards him and cuts three big pieces while Derek quietly hands him plates for each slice.

When John is able to continue he does. “Third, the minute I found out about all of this supernatural mess, I hunted down a substantial stock of wolfsbane and learned how to make the appropriate bullets and I have absolutely no problem putting several in Derek if he ever hurts you.” John makes a special effort to look sternly at Derek as he speaks because he is absolutely serious.

“Finally, Stiles, your mom told me once that someday you were going to fall in love. That it would be real and even if I thought you were young or silly at the time, that it wouldn’t change how real it was for you. She made me promise that all I would ever do is support you in that. I’ve never had any intention of breaking that promise.”

Stiles reaches over and squeezes his dad’s hand tightly. He doesn’t need to say anything to indicate he understands. 

“Now that’s established, what do you say we turn the game on and step away from the serious talk?” asks John, picking up a piece of cake.

Derek and Stiles agree and follow him into the living room.

A couple hours later, John excuses himself to bed and Stiles walks Derek to the porch. Earlier purchase or not, tonight something didn’t feel quite right, or even necessary about putting them to use.

“This wasn’t quite the disaster I thought it was going to be,” says Stiles as they stand outside his door.

“It was nice,” agrees Derek. His eyes keep looking all over the place though, in a way Stiles recognizes.

He puts a hand on Derek’s arm. “What is it? You’re doing that thing where you want to say something but you’re scare about how I’ll react. This may be new but we’ve been friends for a while now Derek. You can talk to me.”

Derek loops his fingers with Stiles’ hand and looks straight at him. “Your dad said something about love and you didn’t disagree with him. Your heart didn’t race or anything either. And I just wondered…”

“Of course I love you,” says Stiles in a hurry. “I’ve kind of been in love with you for a while now. It seemed like I wasn’t going to get to do anything about it for the longest time but it’s true.” 

“That doesn’t scare you?”

Stiles looks steadily into Derek’s eyes, and his free hand slips up behind Derek’s neck. “Derek, there are so many things in this world that scare me. Loving you isn’t one of them.”

Derek leans forward and kisses Stiles, closing his eyes and relishing in the taste. He almost can’t believe that it had only been yesterday that he got to do that for the first time.

And that reminds him. “Um, there’s one more thing?”

“Yeah?” asks Stiles.

“I know there’s a pack meeting tomorrow but do you think I could take you to dinner the next day?” asks Derek.

Stiles kisses him again. “Yes.” Then he laughes. “We really are doing this all backwards aren’t we? Pretty sure the first date is supposed to come before sex and I love you and meeting the parents. Everything goes all wrong when you fall for a Stilinski.”

Derek leans his head into Stiles’ neck and lets Stiles gently run a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t feel wrong to me.”

Stiles sighs. “No, I guess it feels pretty perfect to me too.”


	4. Second Chance at a First Date

There are at least three people that Stiles has to call before his date with Derek. Date. That sounds so weird. He’s imagined being with Derek for months now but never once had his mind pictured them dating. Not unless it was a scowling competition deep in the woods. 

First he has to return Jake’s message. True to his word, Jake had called him yesterday evening, suggesting that he’d be interested in that second date and wondering if Stiles was free. 

There is no way in hell that Stiles is going to meet up with Jake in person. His control is just fine but if he has even a hint of Jake’s scent on him, Derek’s possessive side would probably go ballistic. And Stiles knows that in a weird way it would upset Derek too. Sure there wouldn’t be any reason to be upset and Derek would acknowledge that. But after all these years, Derek still carries this fear that everyone was just waiting for a chance to betray him. 

Stiles just isn't going to be that person. Not even if he only does it due to an accidental misunderstanding. 

So yeah, phone call is best. Stiles calls and luckily is able to control the conversation from the beginning. He explains to Jake that he really did have a great time and that under different circumstances the second date might be awesome but that he isn’t free anymore. Not in that sense. He's a little surprised by Jake’s response.

“So I take it that other guy finally came around?” questions Jake on the other end. 

“Yeah,” grins Stiles at the question, before really hearing it. “Wait, what other guy? How do you know there’s another guy?”

“Danny,” admits Jake.

“What did Danny say?”

“Well I’d kinda been bugging him about you for a while, but he kept saying it wasn't a good idea. And then I was at his house and saw your text about wanting to be set up so I may have pushed it.”

Stiles is flattered. Shocked, but still flattered. “You really liked me that much? That’s really nice, Jake.”

Jake laughs. “Yeah well, Danny warned me that the odds of me getting more than one date were unlikely. He basically said you were into someone else and that guy was into you but nothing was really making it happen. Danny was pretty sure that the minute you showed interest in someone else, things would work out between the other dude.”

“Danny’s pretty smart.”

There's a pause. Then Stiles has one more question. “So why would you still want to be the guy who gets this phone call? Why waste the date?”

Jake’s tone sounds a little disbelieving. “Stiles, I’d rather get that one chance to kiss you then regret not stepping up.”

“You make me sound like a catch. Oh god, not that I’m fishing for compliments,” he adds hurriedly.

“Understood. I don’t know what’s wrong with the people you hang out with but trust me, I’m not the only guy who’s noticed you. I just got lucky,” says Jake. 

“That’s really nice of you,” responds Stiles, very grateful he's on the other end of the phone and can’t be seen blushing. “I’m sorry I had to call you like this though. I’m sure you’ll find someone awesome though.”

“Yeah well, if things with this guy don’t work out, feel free to give me a call,” finishes Jake.

“I don’t plan on ever being single again to be honest, but I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Jake,” says Stiles.

“Have a good life, Stiles.”

And that's that. Stiles feels kind of weird because the call felt a little more like a breakup than he ever expected. There's also a little bit of a glow in his heart at the idea that he doesn’t just appeal to a grumpy werewolf. 

Maybe Derek’s opinion is the only one that really matters but knowing other people find him attractive is a nice (and maybe a little bit necessary) reassurance. 

To counterbalance his newfound confidence in his looks, he texts Erica and Lydia.

**Date with Derek tonight. Assuming my usual wardrobe choices are problematic. Pls advise.**

Lydia’s text comes back immediately. **Honey, problematic doesn’t begin to describe it.**

He texts back. **You’re evil, I hope you know that. So what do I wear?**

While he waits for her reply, Erica pops into his room via the window. “Like a real date? With dinner and silverware and fanciness?”

Stiles rolls his eyes at her. “Not all of us are heathens, Erica. But yes, like a normal people date that does not involve killing strange creatures in a forest or a pile of overgrown toddlers.”

“I would be insulted by that but I’ve seen your closet and that’s way more offensive,” says Erica, sticking her tongue out at him. “Did you text Lydia? You know she’ll murder you and even Derek wouldn’t be able to find the pieces if you leave her out of a fashion emergency.”

“She’s yelling at me via text right now,” answers Stiles.

Lydia’s reply shows up with perfect timing. **I’m on my way to pick you up. We’re going to the mall. Be ready in 5.**

Stiles texts back quickly. **The closest mall is 45 min away!!!**

**3 minutes** is the only answer Lydia sends back.

“It appears we’re going shopping. Lydia isn’t even interested in looking at my clothing options,” informes Stiles to Erica.

“Thank god. I really don’t how to make hoodies look dressy. C’mon, let’s go. I want some of those chocolate chip cookies you made the other day before we leave,” says Erica, pulling Stiles off his bed and down the stairs. 

The car ride is spent grilling him about last night’s dinner and if Stiles thought his dad knew how to humiliate him, he's going to start redefining his expectations. Once they reach the mall, the girls first drag him to get a pair of dark, fairly fitted jeans. He draws the line at super skinny jeans, noting that he isn’t that guy but agrees to at least go with non-baggy jeans. 

Erica insists he wear the jeans now, so they can get the right idea about what to pair with them. 

Stiles walks out of the dressing room and turns slowly at Lydia’s motion. “How’s this one?” He's wearing a dark green sweater that fits snugly and comes just over the edge of his jeans. 

Erica’s jaw drops. “Any interest in dumping Derek and dating me?”

“It’s not that nice,” protests Stiles.

“No, it’s not,” critiques Lydia. “But it is worth buying for a future date so take it off and hand it to me.”

Stiles starts to walk back in the dressing room. 

“Take it off out here,” corrects Lydia. “You’re bi, Stiles. And you spent years staring at my breasts. I’m allowed a little ogling.”

Stiles sighs and pulls the sweater over his head, tossing it at Lydia’s face as he walks back into the dressing room. The next option is a black button down that fits well but seems kind of plain.

“This feels too high school dance,” complains Stiles when he walks out.

“But it does look good,” notes Erica. “It’s just…”

Lydia’s eyes flash. “Missing something. Hang on.” She walks over to a nearby rack and flips through it before coming back with a red vest. “Here. Tuck the shirt in and add the vest. Let’s see what that does to the ensemble.”

Stiles has to admit, the vest looks good. Like to the point that he might spend an extra minute or two staring at himself. Between the tailored shirt and the cut of the vest, both signs of quality and he was more than happy that this was Lydia’s treat, it more than shows off the muscles he’s developed. It turns out that lacrosse and fighting monsters is a damn good work out.  
Lydia and Erica both give their vote of approval, then Erica looks at her phone and they quickly make the purchase. No one comments when Lydia pushs the speed limit by a good fifteen miles to get home. 

“Thanks Lydia! Catwoman! You two are the best,” yells Stiles as he runs into his house and jumps in the shower. 

He manages to be dressed and ready to go by the time Derek’s knock sounds at the front door. Stiles still thinks it's weird that Derek is using the door. Not that he always crawls in his window but since he usually needs Stiles late at night, it just got to be easier to enter that way than knock, try not to wake the Sheriff, and wait for Stiles to make it downstairs. 

Derek knocks harder just as Stiles opens the door and Stiles has the distinct pleasure of seeing Derek’s mouth actually drop.

“Um…you look…” Derek’s voice trails away.

“Oh shit,” mutters Stiles. “Did I overdo it? The vest is stupid isn’t it? I’ll just take it off and...”

“No,” growls Derek. “No, I like it. It just wasn’t expected.”

Stiles beams. “So you don’t want me get rid of it?”

“Oh I do. But there’s no way in hell anyone but me is going to be doing it,” says Derek, his eyes flashing red with arousal. “After dinner.”

Stiles reaches forward and grabs the edges of Derek’s jacket, pulling him in for a kiss that's decidedly dirtier than was healthy. “I like that plan.”

It is absolutely not Stiles’ fault that Derek has to pull over twice on the way to the restaurant. His hand totally slipped across the console and into Derek’s lap. At least that's his story and he is quite determinedly sticking to it. Besides, it isn’t like Derek is all that upset about it.

Dinner however, proves to be a problem. Or to be more accurate, waiting for their table proves to be a problem. Derek made reservations but like many restaurants, too many tables were just hanging out and they have to wait half an hour to sit down. 

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I didn’t realize we’d have to wait,” says Derek.

“I don’t care. Sure it might be more fun if I could go with you to the bar but as it is, you’ll have to entertain me. Dance sourwolf!”

Derek’s eyebrows tell him to stop it.

“Or just brood,” retorts Stiles. He sits silently, hands clasped with Derek’s for about three minutes before getting antsy. “Let’s go outside and wait. I need some fresh air.”

Derek follows Stiles around to the side of the restaurant, where they sit down on a little bench that's partially secluded by a few trees. “Better?” asks Derek.

Stiles just leans over and kisses him. Derek kisses back, lightly at first but eventually responding to Stiles’ tongue against his lips. He opens his mouth against Stiles and pulls him in closer.

After a minute or two of that, Stiles tangles his hands in Derek’s hair and moves so he's straddling Derek’s lap. He tugs a little as he licks inside Derek’s mouth, trying to taste every bit of him.

Derek groans in pleasure against Stiles’ lips, hands slipping down to grip his hipbones. It isn’t until Stiles grinds down against him that Derek remembers where they were. 

“I don’t think this is why the bench is out here,” says Derek breathlessly. 

“We’re putting it to better use then,” returns Stiles, leaning back to let Derek bite at his neck. 

“Stiles, our table will be ready in like five minutes.”

Stiles kisses him again. “I don’t want dinner anymore.”

“You’re not hungry?” asks Derek in disbelief, though he doesn’t make much of an effort to actually get off the bench or move Stiles away.

Stiles stares into Derek’s eyes, his own dark with lust and his breath coming in little pants that made his lips move in ways that turn Derek on more than he thought was possible. “I’m starving,” he says with a low growl.

And then Derek's half carrying, half shoving Stiles to the car before racing towards his house like a bat out of hell. Stiles has never been more thrilled that his dad was working the night shift.  
Derek's still pushing the door shut behind them when Stiles grabs his jeans and pulls him towards him. “Want you.”

Stiles pushes his jacket off his shoulders and tugs at the hem of Derek’s shirt until he helpes Stiles take it off. Derek fumbles at the buttons on Stiles’ vest until he's shoving the offending article of clothing away as they stumble up the stairs. 

Once in his room, Derek pushes Stiles up against his door.

“This should not be such a turn on for me,” mumbles Stiles, as Derek’s lips come crashing back to his.

“I’m just getting started,” says Derek in response, pressing kisses along Stiles’ jaw line and down his neck. He moves his fingers up to unbutton Stiles’ shirt, licking and sucking at Stiles’ torso as his mouth follows his hands. Derek takes a moment to appreciate Stiles’ body as soon as the shirt is gone.

Stiles shudders and bucks up into him. “Derek,” he pleads.

Derek doesn’t waste any more time pushing Stiles’ jeans and boxers down and taking Stiles in his mouth.

Stiles moans, loudly, and can’t help but push against Derek. “Fuck.”

He comes ridiculously fast but Derek doesn’t look like he cares about how quickly it happened, just that he's the one making it happen.

Derek moves back up and kisses Stiles, hard. Stiles kisses back and pushes Derek towards his bed. Derek falls back, pulling Stiles with him and flips them over so he's on top, hips moving against Stiles.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Are you?” returns Stiles, knowing Derek is the one with more issues about this entire relationship.

“I haven’t been able to think about anything but fucking you since you opened the door in that damn outfit,” growls Derek in response.

Stiles gives his answer by shoving Derek’s pants off and reaching his hand around him.

From there, the night becomes a whirlwind until eventually Stiles is curled up against Derek, exhausted but deliriously happy.

They fall asleep against each other and don’t wake up until they're both hit in the face with soft cloth objects.

“You two left these in the hallway,” says John from the door. “In the future, I’d appreciate it if clothing removal stuck to the bedroom.”

Stiles chooses to keep Derek’s shirt over his face rather than look at his father.

“Pancakes downstairs in fifteen minutes!” John shuts the door behind him, laughing as he walks back down the stairs.


	5. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack Feels. Sheriff Stilinski is evil...but in a fun way. Stiles has kinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have more! Okay so I had tons of pack feels to throw in. There also was a fair bit of mythology stuff for some reason which will have no further bearing on this story but I needed a reason for an impromptu pack meeting and this was easier than fussing with an enemy.  
> But most importantly, the smut section of this fic has arrived! Yes, that’s right, I’ve finally taken my shot at writing an actual sex scene instead of blue balling my readers. And I am in no way ashamed of fishing for compliments (or criticisms) because if I did a horrible job I need to know. And if I did an awesome job writing smut, your comments will encourage me to write more. Cheers!

Stiles manages to pull himself together first, probably because Derek looks like a bleary-eyed kitten who's being personally attacked by the sun in the morning and likes to pout under the covers.

It's quite possibly the cutest thing Stiles has ever seen.

However, the lack of a coherent Derek means there's no one to warn him that showing up in his boxers and a t-shirt was not the best choice. The entire pack is gathered in the kitchen. His dad's flipping pancakes and has Isaac pouring batter onto the griddle the minute a pancake is removed.

A giant plate of bacon sits in the middle of the table and if John Stilinski thinks his son isn’t going to lecture him about that later he would be wrong. 

Erica, Lydia, and Allison are gathered at one end of the counter, talking animatedly about something. 

Scott and Jackson seem to be debating lacrosse strategy.

“What the fuck?” asks Stiles.

“Language,” says John without turning around.

“Is there a reason you are all here?” amends Stiles, looking for coffee.

Danny reaches out and hands Stiles a mug. Stiles takes it gratefully and dumps sugar in it. 

“I came by this morning to see if you guys had plans or were able to handle a pack meeting later,” answers Scott. “Your dad was making bacon when I got here and you know how much I love breakfast.”

Stiles did know that. “That answers the question of you. Not that I don’t love you all but how does Scott playing messenger boy translate to the entire pack at my house?”

“Your dad invited us, Stilinski,” says Jackson, flicking a balled up napkin at him. “He said it was going to be tradition.”

“Well yeah, it’s always been our tradi…” Stiles looks at his dad in horror. “You’re going to feed these guys every week? Do you have any idea how much Isaac alone can eat?!”

Isaac growls good-naturedly at him and shoves a pancake in his mouth.

“First, pancakes are not expensive,” states John. “Second, you my son were already spending most of your time risking your life over werewolves and lizard people and murderous hunters and god knows what else. I can’t imagine having a boyfriend is going to mean I get to see you more.”

He finishes placing the last of the pancakes in the warmer and motions for Isaac to take it to the table. The girls already put juice and toppings out.

“This is my solution. I get to know your friends, they get a decent meal every week, and I’m guaranteed at least a couple hours to see my son.” John reaches over and pulls Stiles in for a one-armed hug. “I love you, son. I just want to spend time with you and this seemed like a good solution.”

Stiles hugs his dad back. It really is kind of genius. And he likes the idea of a big family meal. It's all very Norman Rockwell holidays but it's still nice. 

The pack starts to gather around the table as Derek finally emerges from upstairs. He comes in looking wide awake, wearing a blank tank top and sweats, and throws a pair of sweatpants at Stiles. “Figured you might want those,” he says, leaning in to kiss Stiles lightly on the lips. 

Stiles smiles. “Thanks. Sleep good?” He hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to Derek earlier.

“Yeah,” says Derek and his eyes look unbelievably content. 

Stiles sneaks another kiss.

“I might vomit over how adorable you two are,” says Lydia. 

Derek sits down at the table and pulls Stiles into the chair next to him. Everyone spends the next few minutes filling up their plates and passing the butter and syrups back and forth. Once each member of his pack has their food, Derek speaks up. “So why the need for a pack meeting? Did something happen last night?”

Scott shakes his head hurriedly. “No, we’re good. Boyd just had an idea but it seemed like the kind of thing you should decide and the pack should agree on.”

Derek inclines his head towards Boyd to indicate he should explain. It's likely that he’d go for it. The only bad idea Boyd ever had was running away from the pack. But even that was excused because Derek knew how Boyd felt about Erica. He wasn’t sure he could stay behind if Stiles tried leaving.

Boyd swallows his mouthful of food. “It was partly Lydia’s idea but I wanted to add to it. She suggested that we use runes around the house and the clearing for protection. We thought it might help keep bad guys out so we aren’t surprised like we were with that shifter several weeks ago.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” says Stiles. 

“It’s a good one. But it’s not the type to need a pack meeting,” notes Derek.

“Well the only real problem with runes is that you have to keep redoing them because the mark fades away and it loses some of its potency,” explains Boyd. “So Lydia and I were researching and it turns out that you can strengthen a rune with blood.”

Lydia steps in. “The use of blood in a rune also helps tie it to the creator, adding an extra personal level of strength.”

Stiles interrupts. “What do you mean personal?”

“As we understood it,” continues Lydia as Boyd starts eating again, “it can give the creator a small amount of the same power the rune has, even away from the area the rune was used. For example, a protective rune around the house would primarily protect the building but it could also be enough to give one of us a warning if attacked somewhere else.”

“That’s really smart,” says Derek, more than a little proud of his two pack members for thinking of it.

“So you’d use werewolf blood to keep the runes strong without having to redo them right?” asks John, reaching across the table for another slice of bacon and ignoring his son’s glare. Stiles is too far away to yank it away from him.

Lydia nods. “Since werewolves have healing, or rejuvenation powers in their blood, the rune would constantly renew itself, meaning less worry.”

Stiles is impressed that his dad figured that out. He still isn’t sure why it take the whole pack to hear about it though.

Apparently the others agree with him because Allison and Isaac both speak up at the same time. He defers to her. 

“Couldn’t Derek just make the runes then? Why would we all have to agree to it?”

Then Stiles clicks in. “Oh! If we mix everyone’s blood together, we’d be connected!”

Boyd grins, happy someone else had figured it out. “It’d make an earlier warning sign. Instead of not knowing what’s going on until a pack member is in serious pain, we’d feel at least something at a first attack.”

“Allowing us a quicker response time,” finishes Derek. “I’m very much in favor of that idea but each pack member has to decide for themselves. Your blood will bind you to the rune and even good magic isn’t to be taken lightly.” He turns to his right to Erica, who looks a little caught off guard.

“If I may, Derek?” asks John.

Derek motions for him to go ahead. 

“Why don’t we all finish eating first before everyone decides? Give them time to think about it without pressure.”

Derek nods. “Of course. We’ll discuss the rest of this after breakfast.”

And with that, the conversation quickly turns back to lighter topics as the pack enjoys the meal.

~

Stiles finds Scott in the library after school. This is no longer the shock it used to be because Allison figured out a bribery system that was working wonders on Scott's grades.

“I need you to have a pack sleepover,” says Stiles, slumping into a chair next to Allison.

She smiles sympathetically. "I take it you and Derek need some alone time?"

Stiles sighs. "Yes. We're trying the first date thing again on Saturday but it is Tuesday & I am a teenage boy and I need sex before then. "

"I thought your dad was cool with you two?" asks Scott. "It was kinda obvious at that first pack breakfast that he knew."

"That's the problem," groans Stiles. "First it was just words, teasing, no big deal. But the day after breakfast he put a map of Beacon Hills on Derek's windshield, then circled all the places known by the police station as common make-out spots and suggested we avoid them."

Allison stifles a laugh.

"That seems kind of helpful," says Scott. "Weird but helpful."

Stiles glares. "On the back side of the map was a list of alternative suggestions."

Scott offers Stiles his last Reeses cup in sympathy. 

Once eaten, Stiles continues. "Then last week, he left a box on my nightstand full of sample packets of flavored lube with a note that said maybe don't start with the chili pepper option."

Allison is dying of laughter and Stiles is pretty sure he can hear Isaac snickering from a corner of the room.

"Wow your dad really likes torturing you doesn't he?" says Scott.

"At least it can't get any worse," offers Allison.

"That’s what I thought," says Stiles. "Then yesterday Derek came over for dinner because apparently he and my father have bonded and he didn't see any way for my father to escalate."

Isaac and Erica give up their pretense of studying & join the table. "I'm guessing that was a bad assumption,” comments Isaac.

"You would be correct. My dad had a gift for both of us, saying he'd been called by Mrs. Flowers who had overheard me and Derek discussing an...idea, and was concerned about our choices." Stiles glares at the others. "Please note that I am equally horrified that the elderly lady who babysat me as a kid made this suggestion to my father. Anyway, Derek, like an oblivious idiot opens the box to find a jar of what is labeled 'body chocolate'. Then my father points out the label that says 'stays soft so you stay tangle free."

Scott's blushing for him with only minor laughter while the others aren’t even pretending to be sympathetic. Erica falls out of her chair and is rolling on the ground she's laughing so hard.

Stiles hates all of them. "I can't even consider sex at my house. My father is one step away from giving me a pair of ass-less chaps and making riding jokes."

That sets Isaac off again.

"Did you use the chocolate?" asks Lydia, and Stiles doesn't even bother wondering where she'd come from.

"Duh," says Stiles. He wasn't going to just waste it.

"Gotta say, Stilinski, I didn't think you had it in you," says Jackson, who followed Lydia.

"I think that's the problem," chokes out Allison.

Stiles grandly ignores her. "Will you help me, Scott?"

"Yeah of course," says Scott, and Stiles knows he will never have a better best friend. "Isaac, tell Boyd you guys are staying over tonight. My mom's working night shift anyway."

Stiles nearly throws himself across the table to hug his best friend. "I love you so much right now."

The others finally settle down when the librarian walks over. Rather than shushing them, she simply sets a book down in front of Stiles. "Your father called dear and asked us to put this on your account."

Stiles stares at the cover that reads 'A Gay Man's Guide to Sex: Finding Your Inner Pleasure.’"

He throws the book at Jackson's head as he stomps out of the room.

~  
Once Stiles is home and finishes up his homework, it's around 7pm and finally dark outside, so he calls Derek. “Come pick me up.”

“Why? I thought I was coming over there later,” says Derek.

“Change of plans. I made Scott take the pack to his house tonight so I don’t have to worry about fatherly humiliation.”

Derek huffs with laughter. “So why can’t you drive?”

“Because I want egg rolls but I’m broke so if you come get me I can trick you into paying for them,” answers Stiles.

“Doesn’t it kind of defeat the purpose if you tell me your plan?”

“Maybe, but I’ve realized that you actually can’t say no to me.”

“I say no to you all the time,” answers Derek, growling a little into the phone.

“Please,” sniffs Stiles in disagreement. “You haven’t said no to anything since I made you admit you were jealous and pining for me.”

Derek wants to disagree but then he thinks about it and realizes he hasn’t. It isn’t like Stiles asks him to do anything he doesn’t want to do though so he supposes it doesn’t matter. 

“I’m here,” is what he says instead. 

“Be right there,” says Stiles and hangs up. 

He's in the car, backpack thrown behind the seat within five minutes. Derek takes them to their usual take-out place where Stiles ends up adding chow mein to the order (so they can reenact the scene from Lady & the Tramp and yes he knows it's supposed to be spaghetti and no he is not the Lady in this situation) as well as three orders of rangoons (because apparently those are as necessary as fortune cookies). 

Another 20 minutes later and they're pulling up to his house. It's still in rebuilding stages, but the outside is done and Derek has at least finished his room and Isaac’s. The rest of the pack has family to stay with but eventually will have their own rooms. 

Derek gets out first, grabbing the sack of food with him.

Stiles exits but just walks around to the driver’s side and leans against Derek’s car. 

Derek turns back when he realizes Stiles isn’t following him. “Stiles?”

Stiles crooks a finger and beckons Derek to come back over. “You know no one’s here, right?”

Derek gives him a puzzled look but sets the food down on the porch and walks over. “I thought that was kind of the point? To not have a bunch of werewolves able to hear us having sex? And to not wonder what your dad is going to leave on the nightstand.”

Stiles grins, full of lust and promise and mischief. “Yeah but I mean they aren’t HERE. As in outside. Right now.”

Derek starts to get it. “You have a lot more kinks than I ever would have thought possible.”

Stiles leans in and sucks a mark into Derek’s throat. “Oh you have no idea.”

Derek stars right into Stiles’ eyes. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Is it a problem if your car gets a little messy in a few minutes?”

“You want me to fuck you against the car…” 

And then Stiles, the devil that he is, hooks his fingers on Derek’s belt and yanks him so he’s flush against him. “It’s your car. Kinda figured you should be the first one bent over the hood.”

Derek’s pretty sure it’s impossible to be this hard, this fast, but his dick is screaming an entirely different story. 

Stiles suddenly seems to think of something. “Unless that’s too weird for you with the whole Alpha thing. I don’t really know how that works sometimes.”

Derek shakes his head. “It’s fine. I was born a Beta so there’s a part of me that likes the idea of, um…” He hesitates for a second, almost embarrassed to say it and wondering when the hell Stiles had gotten under his skin enough to make him nervous.

“The idea of?” asks Stiles, and he doesn’t seem to be mocking in any way.

Derek blushes. “Being dominated.”

Stiles lunges at him, crushing their lips together and shoving his tongue into Derek’s mouth. He lickes, long and dirty in Derek’s mouth and Derek bucks up against him, needing some sort of friction. 

Derek’s hands tug at Stiles’ hoodie and t-shirt and Stiles raises his arms to help him shed the offending garments.

Stiles pushes Derek’s jacket off as he kisses him and then moves his hands back down to undo Derek’s belt. Somehow he’s twisted them around so Derek is pressed against the car.

Derek nips at Stiles’ bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth as he unbuttons Stiles’ jeans and pulls Stiles’ dick out of his pants. Derek wraps a hand around Stiles but it's quickly shoved away.

He whines in protest. 

Stiles kisses at his throat and then shoves Derek’s pants and boxers down to his ankles as he sinks to his knees. “You always take care of me first,” says Stiles in a husky voice as he drops. “Right now is all about you.” Then Stiles wraps his mouth around the head of Derek’s cock. 

Derek's fairly certain he’s never felt anything so hot and wet and perfect and he's amazed that it feels so good no matter how many times Stiles does this.

Stiles pulls off with a filthy pop, grinning at Derek, then licks long stripes before taking Derek in his mouth again. They're usually in bed at this point and Derek’s mind keeps playing an image of Stiles standing over him and he doesn’t even think as he thrusts forward into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles pauses for a second and turns his face upwards, a look Derek doesn’t recognize in his eyes. 

“Oh god,” says Derek, horrified. He seriously just tried to fuck Stiles’ mouth and there's no way Stiles wants that and shit, shit, shit.

Stiles slides back so he can stare up at him. “You usually don’t do that,” he says, though there's no accusing in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” pleads Derek. “I wasn’t thinking and…”

“That was kind of the point of this,” interrupts Stiles. “I’m trying to get you to stop thinking about what I’m ready for or holding yourself back.” Stiles doesn’t move away or stand up, just reaches a hand around and strokes Derek a couple times. 

Derek is barely holding on.

“You never just let go,” whispers Stiles. “It’s like you’re afraid you’ll push me too far. But the thing is, Derek,” and his eyes are dark with lust, “I’ll push you right back.”

“What do you want me to do?” asks Derek, happy and thankfully still completely hard now that he knows Stiles isn’t mad. He grips the edge of the car tightly to make sure he can hold himself steady, sure Stiles is going to order him not to move. An order like that would certainly fit the dominating thing Stiles wants to do.

Stiles has never been predictable.

“I want you to fuck my mouth with everything you’ve got until you’re coming down my throat,” growls Stiles. “And then it’s my turn.”

He flicks his tongue once, catching a taste of the pre-come on Derek’s dick and then takes him in again, moving his mouth impossibly far up Derek. Derek doesn't even hesitate this time. He grips Stiles’ hair with both hands, happy Stiles is growing it out and thrusts forward, again and again. 

Stiles makes obscene noises and Derek can’t help moaning in response. It's mere seconds before he keens and shouts Stiles’ name as he comes.

Stiles holds him until he finishes, then swallows deliberately. He looks up at Derek and licks his lips before standing up to press their mouths together again. Derek's panting for breath and biting at every inch of Stiles’ swollen and now bright red lips. It's the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

They kiss for a few more minutes until Stiles moves his hands down and shuffles out of his jeans. 

“Turn around,” he demands roughly and Derek makes a mental note that he wants to see if that sound in Stiles’ voice is enough to make him come on all on its own. He obeys quickly, palms bracing himself against the hood of his car as he hears Stiles tear open a packet of lube. 

Derek gasps and bucks his hips when Stiles’ slides his first finger inside him. 

“Okay?” asks Stiles. “I know we haven’t actually done this part before.”

Derek nods and rocks against Stiles’ finger. “It’s good, fuck, Stiles, so good.”

Stiles adds a second finger and starts moving them back and forth opening Derek up more. 

Derek can’t help but keep rocking back on Stiles’ fingers and he's insanely glad that Stiles isn’t making him be still. 

Stiles leans forward and presses kisses along Derek’s spine, making Derek feel like he's on sensory overload until he feels Stiles push a third finger inside him and curl them. Derek howls his pleasure, unable to hold back anymore. 

Stiles is breathing hard. “Do you need me to add a fourth, Derek? Or are you ready now? I really need to fuck you now.” 

Derek quivers and nods. “I’m fine, I’m ready, fuck Stiles just fuck me already.”

He can hear the sounds of Stiles slicking himself up and the sound and the promise of what's about to happen make Derek hard all over again. 

Stiles doesn’t make Derek wait any longer. Hell, he isn’t going to last much longer himself at this rate. He pushes slowly into Derek, feeling Derek stretch around his cock and Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as hot as Derek taking him so well. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he moans, hands gripping Derek’s hips so he can move in tighter. Once he's all the way in, Stiles stays still for a few seconds before slowly starting to move. Healing abilities or not, Stiles is determined to make this the best experience of Derek’s life.

Derek moans. “Move, Stiles. I need…I need…just c’mon harder, I can take it, I swear.” He thrusts his hips back at Stiles, trying to take him farther in. 

Stiles gives up trying to stay in control completely. He fucks Derek with everything he has. Hard and fast and rough until all that's coming out of Derek’s lips are incoherent noises.  
He reaches one hand around and starts stroking Derek again, moving his lips closer to Derek’s ear. “So close, Derek. Fuck, I can tell you’re so close. Come for me, okay?”

Derek’s nerves are picking up so many feelings he can barely figure out what Stiles wants. 

Stiles pulls himself out slightly, gives Derek a sharp tug and slams back into him. “Derek,” he growls in a voice that isn’t interested in being disobeyed. “I want to feel you on my skin right before I take you completely. So you are going to come,” he flicks his wrist slightly as he moves it along Derek’s cock, “right. Fucking. Now.” 

Derek comes harder and faster than he’s ever thought possible. His eyes are seeing stars and he's screaming Stiles’ name.

At the sound of his name on Derek’s lips, Stiles thrusts once more and feels himself shake as he falls over the same insane cliff he just sent Derek off of, the feeling of Derek around his dick making him feel like he never wants to move.

“Fuck, that was amazing, Derek,” he says, slumping over onto Derek. Derek shakes underneath him, still reacting.

Stiles pulls out slowly and turns Derek around to face him. He kisses him, slow and deep, with none of their earlier roughness. “Mine,” he whispers against Derek’s lips and Derek agrees with another kiss.


	6. Third Time's a Charm

When Saturday finally rolls around and Derek starts getting ready for his next try at a proper first date with Stiles, he's surprised to see Scott and Jackson hanging around. 

“You two need something?” he asks. 

Scott shakes his head. “The girls went shopping and we were bored so we were hanging out with Stiles but he said we kept bugging him and to go away.”

“So you came here?”

Jackson shrugs. “Feels like pack.”

Derek likes that. “Yeah alright. I’m leaving soon anyway.”

“Oh yeah, date with Stiles tonight,” says Scott. “Nervous?”

Derek gives him a blank look. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Because this is a real date, not one of those things where Stiles just talks until you two have sex,” answers Jackson as though it's obvious. 

“So?”Derek doesn't understand. Why is there anything wrong with that? The sex is amazing. Really amazing.

Scott looks at Derek like he's an idiot and that's just a bit rich. “So you have to have things to talk about. Carry on a conversation, you know, like normal people do on dates.”

“Yeah I’m aware of the concept, Scott, but thanks so much for sharing.” Derek is pretty sure Stiles is rubbing off on him because that last bit is just dripping with sarcasm. “I’m not worried but I am going to be late. Don’t trash the place,” he instructs as he grabs his jacket and hops in his car to pick up Stiles.

And he isn’t worried. At least not until he pulls up to Stiles’ house and starts wondering if Scott and Jackson are right. Derek always lets Stiles talk, and it never seems like it mattered. But of course now it does. Stiles probably expects Derek to answer questions and act like a normal boyfriend when they go out in public and he hasn't been doing that at all. He's not completely sure he knows how. It's not like he's ever really dated before.

By the time Stiles gets in the car, Derek's in full on panic mode, which of course translates to being extra surly. 

“What’s with you?” asks Stiles. Usually Derek is in a better mood when he comes over

“Nothing,” growls Derek.

“Fine, be a sourwolf. Anyway, so I was watching Iron Man earlier today and I realized that Tony Stark looks really good with a goatee. Plus, he’s basically the scrawniest of the Avengers. And I’m like the smallest member of the pack, so it stands to reason that I would look fantastic with some facial hair.” Stiles notes that Derek hasn't interrupted him once yet, which is really odd. 

“I figure it would be easiest if I just shave off your beard and glue it to my face though.”

Nothing. Now Stiles is getting concerned. The only times Derek doesn't immediately explain why he's upset is when he feels guilty or it has to do with the two of them.

“Or I could just use Scott’s chest hair.”

“What? Please don't bring up Scott's chest hair.”

“Oh so he does listen! Praise the saints,” snarks Stiles, hoping Derek is just distracted. He kind of doubts that's all there is to it. 

Derek just growls again, proving his earlier theory so Stiles is quiet the rest of the ride, trying to figure out what's going on.

Dinner isn’t much better. Derek gives him one word answers at best and eyebrow twitches mostly to any topic Stiles brings up. 

Stiles watches Derek, noting that the more he tries to answer one of Stiles’ questions, the more closed off he becomes. Finally, Stiles figures enough is enough.

Stiles waves the waitress over. “’Scuse me, but would it be possible to get our meal to go? We’ve got a bit of a friend emergency to take care of.”

“Oh of course,” answers the waitress. “Do you need anything else with the food? It should be just about ready anyway.”

Stiles orders a couple of desserts and a few minutes later the girl brings them a bag of food plus to-go drinks in a carrier. Stiles thanks her and pays, leaving a generous tip before shoving Derek ahead of him out the door.

As Stiles drives to the house, and it's a mark of how out of it Derek is that he doesn’t fight Stiles on driving his car, he glances over at Derek. “Are you going to tell me what flew up your ass tonight or do I have to start playing 20 Questions?”

“I totally fucked up,” starts Derek and now Stiles is just worried instead of worried and mad. Derek doesn't start conversations with apologies. Hell, he doesn't apologize for just about anything. And not that Derek shouldn't learn that skill but he's got his tragedy face on. So Stiles is quiet and listens to Derek. “I got jealous and made you start this thing with me but all we seem to do is hang out at home or fuck and then I fail at actual dates.”

“Okay first, I’m pretty sure I was the one who ruined our first try at a real date,” says Stiles. “Second, is there a problem with us having sex? I’m eighteen and obviously my dad is either okay with it or in a really odd form of denial but that still seems to be working out in our favor. But do you not like it?”

Derek shakes his head. “The sex is amazing. I mean, fuck Stiles, sometimes I think I can come just from watching you come.”

“Always nice to hear.”His dick kind of likes hearing it too if the sudden tightness in his pants is any indication. But Stiles takes a breath and focuses. Not the time.

“But that’s all I’m good at. You deserve to have a boyfriend who doesn’t clam up and not know how to have a basic conversation on a date. Dating me means you’ll always be disappointed that you can’t have a normal boyfriend,” finishes Derek sadly.

"Who told you I needed witty conversation and perfectly romantic dinner dates?" asks Stiles, a little bit furious. He knows Derek second guesses himself a lot but this is still pretty out of the blue.

"Jackson and Scott," admits Derek.

Stiles restrains from rolling his eyes. "You can't listen to those two. Jackson dates a girl who lives her romantic life as if she's in 'The Notebook' and Scott pretty much does the same thing. They're romance dweebs and that works for them. It doesn't have to work for everyone."

"But you deserve better. You deserve normal." 

Stiles’ jaw drops, like he can’t believe Derek just said that. “You are an actual idiot. If I wanted a normal boyfriend, I wouldn’t be the kid who went looking for a dead body in the woods. I’m not anymore normal than you are and I don’t want anyone else, so just stop with that kind of talk.”

“You say that now,” mutters Derek. “But you’ll get to know me better and want out.”

Stiles just doesn’t even respond to that bullshit. Not yet.

They reach the house and Stiles tugs on Derek’s hand and pulls him up to the house and into the den and gets both of them situated on the couch. He sets the food down nearby and sits for a few minutes, telling Derek to just breathe and listen to him. 

Stiles turns Derek’s face to look at him and says, “I need to talk. And I know I talk a lot and about a lot of nonsense but this is one of the most important things I will ever say and I need you to listen.” 

Derek nods imperceptibly and finally looks at Stiles. 

Stiles takes both of Derek’s hands in his as they sit cross-legged, facing each other on the couch. “I don’t want a relationship that starts out with awkward small talk and wondering who is going to get the bill this time and if this is a good moment to kiss the other. We aren’t on the first date between two people who don’t know each other, Derek. You started out throwing me into walls and I suggested killing you on multiple occasions and somewhere along the way we started trusting each other. From there we somehow managed to become the most important people in each other’s life. Did we just figure out that we should act on these romantic feelings? Yeah. But Derek, I know you. I know that you admire Captain America more than you’d ever admit and that Russian literature speaks to your soul on a level you’ve never been able to put into words. I know the pack is incredibly important to you, just as much as your family was, and that sometimes you wonder if you love the pack more because you’ve never taken them for granted and chose each member. I know you love Dodgers baseball and think I’m beyond naïve for never giving up on the Mets. I know you like a rare steak but a burnt burger and think guacamole looks like baby shit. I know you like to watch me when I’m researching not just because it’s me but because you understand the joy of solving a problem because your eyes light up as much as mine do when I find an answer. “

Stiles pulls one hand out of Derek’s hand and gently runs a finger along Derek’s face, tracing his jaw line. “I know you, because you know me. So I don’t need and I don’t want a bunch of awkward dates where we try and figure out how to act like the rest of the world does on dates. I want take-out and movie nights where I try to convince you that Steve and Tony are madly in love. I want a date that is basically sitting on the porch, watching the pack train, and being able to know who your favorite is that day by the way you try to hide your smiles. I want to curl up against you on the couch and listen to you read Tolstoy. I want to fall asleep in your arms and wake up staring into your eyes.”

Stiles kisses Derek softly, thumbs wiping away the tears in Derek’s eyes.

“I don’t want awkward dates and stumbling over what we mean to each other. I love you, Derek. Just as you are. The only thing I want is you.”

Derek wants to find the words to tell Stiles how he felt but it's like they can’t find their way from his brain to his mouth. This whole thing is still new to him. Admitting that he trusts Stiles, that he loves Stiles…he wants to tell him that but Derek is still a stranger to expressing emotions through words.

So he leans forward and kisses Stiles with everything he has, hoping it's enough for now.

Stiles smiles against his lips. It is.


End file.
